


Just Happened to Be

by EmpressofTears



Series: The Generation Where it Happens (Hamilkids) [2]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, First Date, Fluff, Kisses, M/M, absolute adorableness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-03
Updated: 2016-04-03
Packaged: 2018-05-31 00:13:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6447706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmpressofTears/pseuds/EmpressofTears
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Is it too cliché to go to dinner and the art museum on a first date? Probably. But that’s not going to stop George Washington Lafayette. If it woos Phillip Hamilton, it will have been worth it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just Happened to Be

**Author's Note:**

> So this is the sequel to "Angie Hamilton Saves the Day" but you do not have to read that to understand what's happening here.

It was a nasty, brutish sort of day. The winds were high and a few snowflakes swept through the streets of the greatest city in the world. George scoffed at the title. New York was far from the greatest city in his eyes. There were too many people, too many sounds and smells all at once. But New York was where Phillip Hamilton was, and George would do anything, even put up with the insomnia of the big city, for him.

_Mon Dieu_ , he was a hopeless romantic.

But he was also French, so it was to be expected.

The mere thought of Phillip’s name sent a broad smile across George’s face. Phillip Hamilton, the love of his life.

After a year of skype dates and an inter-continental friendship, George and Phillip had both been accepted to King’s College. The two were ecstatic that their friendship wouldn’t be so long-distance. (And if they had major crushes on each other, it was beside the point.) King’s was a great school, of course, and getting in had been no problem for them. Their fathers laughed and claimed that their positions in the government--Mr. Hamilton being Secretary of the Treasury and Lafayette being the French Ambassador--were the only reason for their admittance, but Phillip and George ignored their antics. They always did.

By mid-December, the two boys had spent months hanging out and spending time “studying” together. Of course, their study sessions turned into late-night existential talks where they questioned life, the universe, and everything to the very foundation of their knowledge. Convinced of his own feelings and fairly certain they were reciprocated, George worked up the guts to ask Phillip out.

He spent 73.4 hours planning his speech, pacing and rereading it, and annoying his roommate so much that he was locked out of his own dorm. When he thought he was finally prepared for every possible outcome, George pulled Phillip onto their favorite bench under _their tree_ that they had spent hours hanging out under. His hands were shaking and he could barely read his notecards, but somehow George had managed to stutter out, “Phillip Hamilton… _Mon Dieu_ , you’re gorgeous, and smart, and brave, and funny; will you go out with me?”

And then Phillip freaking Hamilton had kissed him, so George considered the whole day to be a rousing success. Maybe George cried a little, maybe he didn’t. That was between him and Phillip, and probably the entire Hamilton family since they seemed to know everything about Phillip’s love life.

And now Phillip Hamilton was George’s boyfriend.

Boyfriend.

It was such an exciting word, and it brought another smile onto George’s face as he continued to trudge down the snow-covered sidewalk. When he finally found his car, he gratefully jumped in and blasted the heat.

\---

George pulled into the Hamilton’s driveway at 5:56 PM. He was four minutes early. Was four minutes too much? Would Phillip think he was being too forward, too needy? What if Phillip thought he was too possessive? This wasn’t good, this was truly terrible.

By the time the Frenchman’s brain caught up to reality, assuring him that four minutes was perfectly acceptable, two minutes had passed.

5:58 PM.

That would have to be good enough.

Suddenly, it occurred to him that neither of the Hamilton parents would be in town this weekend; Phillip had mentioned something about a political gala in DC. Panic seized George again. Aren’t teenagers supposed to break rules and get up to crazy stuff while their parents are gone? Would Phillip expect that out of him?

It probably wouldn’t come to the Hokey Pokey, but George couldn’t be sure. _Hokey Pokey?_ Was that the phrase? Somehow it didn’t seem right, but he couldn’t think of anything else to replace it. The young Frenchman was mentally cursing English euphemisms while racking his brain for alternatives. Mentally shrugging his shoulders, George just promised himself that he wouldn’t let the date reach the Hokey Pokey stage.

Taking a deep breath, George stepped out of the car and ran to the front door. There was only a split second of hesitation before he pushed all of his fears into the back of his mind, put on a winning smile, and rang the doorbell, waiting for the door to swing open.

It did, and there was (gorgeous, lovely, sweet, perfect, funny, amazing) Phillip. George was vaguely aware of Phillip’s little sister Angie hovering in the background, but he can’t focus on that, can’t focus on anything but how beautiful Phillip looks. His hair, the curls… his eyes, green and surrounded by freckled cheeks… He was glowing in the soft lighting and George was helpless.

After a moment of forgetting how to breathe, George cleared his throat and held out his hand for Phillip to take. When the other boy’s warm fingers intertwined with his own, George felt his heart go _boom._

Pulling Phillip closer to him, George whispered in his ear, “You look beautiful tonight.” He almost kissed him, picked out the spot on his freckled cheek and everything, but was stopped by that little voice in the back of his head telling him it was too soon. Too soon? Too soon for a kiss? Well… maybe that little voice was right. He shouldn’t rush this.

“Thanks, George. You look wonderful, too,” Phillip whispered back, the warmth of breath over his ear pulling George out of his thoughts. The door had been closed and the boys were left on the front porch, their faces incredibly close. A little louder, Phillip asked, “So where are you taking me tonight?”

George smiled, feeling some of his anxieties slipping away at the sound of Phillip’s voice. “I was thinking dinner first, just some time for us to talk.”

“Oh?” With only a slight tug of his hand, Phillip was pulling George down the driveway to the awaiting car.

Phillip was smiling, that was a good sign. George grinned back at his boyfriend, settling comfortably into the conversation with the confidence Phillip always gave him.

“And after dinner, I was thinking a trip to the art museum. It’s cliché, I know, but—”

Just as they reached the end of the driveway, Phillip leaned over and kissed George softly on the lips, killing the sentence at the tip of his tongue. But the kiss ended as quickly as it began, Phillip pulling away and walking to the other side of the car. George was left with a light blush in his cheeks and a stomach full of butterflies.

Take _that,_ little head voice; it wasn’t too early for kisses.

George quickly shuffled into the car, started it up, and drove into downtown NYC. The ride itself was anything but awkward for the boys. Just being with Phillip… It was easy for George too forget that he had been so nervous just twenty minutes before. The young Hamilton had that effect on him: making him confident and happy despite all of his other anxieties. With Phillip, George didn’t have to worry about saying something wrong or having his jokes taken the wrong way. Phillip understood, and George loved him for it.

They began squabbling playfully right away, trying to decide what music to listen to.

“Lin-Manuel Miranda.” Phillip was adamant about some historical rap artist.

“Dude, I know for a fact that your dad listens to his music.”

“Oh, and everything my dad does is dorky?” Phillip laughed. “He’s on Twitter, you know. He’s got more followers than me!”

“That’s because all he does is rip politicians like Donald Trump apart for their stupidity. It’s hilarious.”

Phillip raised a judgmental eyebrow. “You think my dad is funny?”

“Maybe?” George replied, trying to deny the accusation. Was it bad to be talking about their parents on a date?

Phillip just groaned half-heartedly. “Just don’t tell him that. His dad jokes are bad as it is, you’ll just encourage him.”

“I might do it just to annoy you,” George said, laughing loudly. “Now seriously, we’re halfway there. If we want music, we should decide something soon.

“Lin-Manuel Miranda.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

_“No.”_

_“Yes.”_ Then Phillip pulled out his doe eyes, leaving George helpless. Okay, fine, he won the battle, but he wouldn’t win the war!

Soon rap music was filling the air when Phillip and George’s banter wasn’t. He wouldn’t admit it, but George gained a new respect for Lin-Manuel Miranda and his historical mixtape after that night with Phillip.

But the rumors of him buying every single one of Miranda’s songs were completely unfounded.

(And it must have been Phillip that downloaded all those songs on his phone, George would never do that.)

\---

“Oh, the forbidden love of a Slytherin and a Gryffindor!” Phillip laughed, throwing his hands up in the air dramatically. The two boys were seated in an authentic French restaurant on Broadway (George claimed it was the only place he trusted to have good enough food for their first date) eating pretentious food like baguettes and good French cheese.

As with all good conversations, Phillip and George had landed on the subject of Harry Potter and which houses they would be sorted into. George and all his clever charisma landed him in Slytherin. Phillip, like his father, went to Gryffindor for his rash decisions and sharp tongue.

George was smiling broadly, “It is quite the story, _mon ami._ But what about the children? Which father will they take after?” Phillip’s eyes widened, and a smile grew on his lips. George wasn’t sure mentioning future marriage/children/whatever was a good idea, but he did it anyway.

Phillip, however, and immediately shot back, “Obviously they’d take after me. Hamilton genius is hard to escape. I can’t imagine any of our children would be born without it,”

_“Mon ami,_ that’s the point!” he cried, fixing his eyes intently on Phillip’s face. “With your brains and my cunning, there will be no stopping them! Not to mention your brash actions and wonderful way with words. The Hamilton-Lafayettes will rule the wizarding world! Or should we be the Lafayette-Hamiltons?”

“Hamilton-Lafayettes, most definitely. It’s got a better ring to it. But hold on, dude. Who says we’re going to rule it? I would be fine with just living there!”

“You have no ambition, _mon amour._ But I suppose that’s what you have me for.” George sent a playful wink at his boyfriend, making Phillip blush and grin broadly.

“I suppose so.”

The conversation flowed from there as the boys ate dinner, shifting from one topic to another easily. Eventually, the two found themselves eagerly debating whether or not classical artists would enjoy modern hip hop music. (Mozart would be personally offended, Phillip claimed. George thought that Beethoven would love it.)

After they finished up their dinner, George insisted on paying the bill. Phillip joked about his gallantry, but the Frenchman could see his eyes were shining. _Oh yeah,_ he thought, _Phillip’s as much of a romantic as I am._

It seemed like the boys left the restaurant and paid the entrance fee to the museum in the blink of an eye.

“Beautiful,” Phillip murmured as the pair walked into the first exhibit.

“You really are,” George murmured back, proud of the blush that rose over Phillip’s freckled cheeks. A gentle quiet fell over the pair, softening the mood considerably.

“I can’t believe this is actually happening,” George sighed after a moment, looking into Phillip’s eyes. At his boyfriend’s confused look, he amended, “This date. It’s so unreal to think that we’re finally doing this.”

“I know what you mean,” Phillip agreed. “It seemed like I’d be stuck in the ‘What the heck I gotta do to be with you’ phase forever. But here we are.” At his last statement, Phillip reached over and squeezed George’s hand, making the Frenchman’s heart stutter.

Not letting go of Phillip’s hand, George said, _“Oui._ I’m glad college has worked out so well for us. If I had stayed in France, I would not have the beautiful boyfriend I do now.”

Phillip blushed heavily and glanced away. George smiled widely at him, a knowing glint in his eyes. _This is the Slytherin in me,_ he thought to himself as he continued.

“Is ‘beautiful’ not the right word?” his tone was innocent enough, and as long as no one looked at his devilish eyes he could pass as a confused Frenchman, stuck in a foreign land with a foreign tongue. But Phillip was looking at his eyes (staring rather intently, as a matter of fact), so George’s ploy was answered with a light whack on the arm as he continued his tirade.

“Perhaps I meant to say ‘gorgeous’ or ‘amazing’ or ‘too-good-for-my-poor-soul.’ My English isn’t perfect, you know. Come to think of it, those all seem to be good options.”

“Stop!” Phillip laughed, his ears red.

“Do you mean that?” George teased. “Because I could keep going. It’s good to practice my English vocabulary after all.”

“Your English is fine, George,” Phillip assured him, “it’s my French that needs help.”

_“Oui.”_ George agreed, earning another smack from his boyfriend.

“That’s not what you’re supposed to say!” Phillip giggled.

“What am I supposed to say then? For future reference, of course.”

“How about something along the lines of, ‘Your French is fine, but if you want to practice sometime I’d be more than willing to help you learn.’”

George giggled even as he spoke, saying, “Of course, sweetie,” _giggle,_ “I would be more than willing to help my honey” _giggle,_ “learn to speak the language of love so he can” _giggle,_ “serenade me outside my dorm window and woo me. Maybe I’ll let my” _giggle,_ “dearest steal my heart and keep it forever.”

At the sight of George doubled over, red in the face and almost crying laughing, Phillip’s stony facade didn’t stand a chance. The two were soon leaning on each other, chuckling and hugging and ignoring the strange looks everyone else in the museum was giving them.

When they finally caught their breath, George took Phillip’s hand and pulled his boyfriend close, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead.

“Come on, _mon petit lion,_ we’ve got art to look at.”

“You’re suck a dork, George,” Phillip replied, but tucked himself further into George’s side and let him lead the way into another gallery.

The rest of the night flies by in a whirlwind of stolen kisses and priceless works of art. The car pulled into the Hamilton driveway just before 11:00, but neither Phillip nor George wanted the night to end. So the boys sat and talked and talked and talked. Maybe half an hour passed before they (regretfully) decided it was finally time to say goodbye.

George dragged himself out of the heated interior of the car and grabbed Phillip’s hand. They walked up to the front porch, bright lights welcoming the eldest Hamilton home, but George had one more thing planned for the evening.

He pulled Phillip close and pressed a soft, gentle kiss to his boyfriend’s lips. When they broke away short of breath, both had broad grins stretched across their faces.

Driving into New York City with its bustling traffic and terrible drivers, George was still smiling. _As long as Phillip is around,_ he decided, _New York might just be the greatest city in the world._

**Author's Note:**

> George being a flirty Lafayette but still having mild anxiety is really important to me. I need George to be smooth and confident, but still worried that he’s taken things too far or that the other party isn’t going to take his jokes the right way. And Phillip anchors him, which I think is so important for a healthy relationship.
> 
> To give credit where credit is due, the idea for a museum date came from meatbrain, who left a lovely comment on my other story suggesting this. Also, my first date was watching Harry Potter with my girlfriend (she’s such a Hufflepuff and I’m a Ravenclaw), so I felt obligated to bring HP into this _somehow._
> 
> Please leave kudos and comments! I'm a writer, I thrive on praise.


End file.
